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death poetry

je suis dans l'amour avec les endroits prévoyants élevés
se reposer dans son culbuteur attendant votre thé
il parle pas bien
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
ne restez pas plus
bien que repine d'amour, et frottement de raison
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
laissez-moi se déplacer lentement par la rue
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
le plus triste de l'année

 



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